“Kizzie, I can't remember what I'm supposed to do with an extra one.” Isaac's voice pulled her attention back to his work. “These two numbers make sixteen, and I put the six down, but now I have a five that's just floatin’ around in my head with no place to land.”
Kizzie smothered a chuckle. “I got a place for that number to land right here, Isaac.” She pointed to the spot on his paper. “Remember, we add that extra number to the one in front, even when we multiply.”
“Well, ain't that nice and tidy.” His grin split wide. “Stays the same in addition and multiplication. I'm real glad.” He sighed. “’Cause lots else changes.”
Kizzie grinned and turned back to Nella. “I'd be happy to look over your recent numbers too if you want.” The idea of showing her abilities, in the wake of her visit to town, pushed her forward with more confidence than she perhaps should convey. “I ain't got no big training, but working for Mrs. Cappy on her books really taught me a lot about keeping figures right and budgeting. She told me I had a knack for ’em.”
Nella dried her hands and studied Kizzie for a moment. “I'll talk to Joshua to see what he thinks ’bout it, but if you have some good advice to help us, I'd be real grateful.”
“I think it'd do me more good just to know I'm being useful to somebody.”
One of the woman's hands went to her hip. “Now don't you go listenin’ to ugly thoughts like that, Kizzie McAdams.” The needling brow poked high again. “Ain't no good comes from puttin’ yourself down, and you got a whole lot of good in you. The girl I met at the Morgan House all those months ago was always ready with a smile or a laugh, and it's been a shame to have her missin’ these past few weeks.”
The statement grounded Kizzie because it was true. She'd changed since meeting Charles. Become more nervous and serious. Her silly daydreams had taken a dark turn into reality, leading to actions that broke her own heart and left behind a great deal of regret, if she was honest.
How silly she'd been! To lose herself in the fairy stories.
Well, real life sure was a fast and tough teacher.
“So you'll come to supper from now on then? Sundays?”
“I'm helping because I'm happy to, Nella.” Kizzie's shoulders dropped. “Y'all don't owe me a thing.”
“I know that, but we're friends, ain't we? And friends invite friends to supper now and again, don't they?”
The finality in her voice curbed any further argument. “Thank you.”
The woman dipped her head and returned to the wash pan to attack another pot. “We got church on Sunday, if you want to come along with us there too. It's not far from your house.”
Church? Kizzie's throat closed at the idea. She wasn't likely to attend any church in the state she was in, buttheirchurch? Kizzie moved her attention back to Isaac's math scrawling. “I … I ain't too sure that's the right choice for me. Not with … not with all I—”
“You gotta find your people, girl. You ain't meant to live this life alone.”
Oh, how she felt the sting of that truth every night when the house creaked and the fire crackled and only the sound of Charlie's and her own breathing softened the silence of the empty house. She shook her head. “I can't go toyourchurch.”
“Last I heard, church was open to everyone.”
Surely, Nella knew. “But I'm … I'm not like you.” She waved toward herself. “I wouldn't fit into your church.”
“Not fit in my church, girl?” Nella swung around, her hands holding a wet plate. “What on earth do you mean?”
“I'm white.”
Nella's eyes shot wide for a second, and then her lips flickered for the briefest moment. “Last I read, God lovesallHis people, so He'll take you too.” She shrugged and turned back to the wash pan. “And if anyone at church has something to say agin’ it, they ain't been readin’ the same Bible as me.”
“Nella.”
“You sayin’ God loves some of his children more than others?”
“No, of course not.” Kizzie pinched her eyes closed. “But there's also what I've done. How … how I'm livin’, I ain't the sort for church, Nella.”
She spun back to face Kizzie so fast, even Isaac flinched along with Kizzie. “Don't you know your Bible a'tall, girl?”
Kizzie refused to answer because the answer wouldn't look favorably on her.
“You're the very kind who ought to be in church.”
Kizzie's shoulders slumped a little beneath the weight of that statement. She needed more than church. She needed a way to start over on the right path. To return to the girl she'd been before coming to the Morgans’.
